Nightingale and the Red Rose
by ShadowFoxxxx
Summary: Lenore Hayes, the strange, white haired girl, has been a longtime friend of Erik's for more than half of her life. Since she left Paris, she's had a sick feeling deep in her heart.Full Summery inside, please Read&Review!
1. What Happened?

**A/N: Thanks for taking a look at my Fanfiction! I want you folks to know that this is a _very long story, _however, it's going to be well developed and I hope you'll fall in love with my characters. Don't worry, Christine and Raoul will make an apparence later on. Until then, you're in for a dark-humored (and slapstick) and dramatic story full of romance. Well, the plot is rather complex... Not really. Don't think so--anyway, Lenore has come back to Paris because she's been worried ill over her long-time friend: Erik. Since it burned down, she left to travel Europe. Read the story to find out much, much more. **

By the by, the story is based off of the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical, not the movie. I don't care for it much, hate to say... Sorry Gerry fans. 8J

The Phantom of the Opera (c) Andrew Lloyd Webber/Gaston Leroux

Lenore Hayes, Darren J. Smith, and Ulrich K.K. Arzt (c) Me, however

Thank you.  


* * *

What Happened? 

Lenore Hayes, Darren Johnathan Smith, and Ulrich Konrad-Kunz Arzt (of Tübingen, Germany, as he likes to address himself) were walking within the deep streets of Paris on a cold winters evening. Lenore, who is currently in her late teens to early twenties, was wearing a thick, black coat with dark jeans and black, leather boots. Her frail neck was engrossed in a rose-red scarf and she had her hands in her pockets, swiftly moving. And her once long, white-hair was cut dramatically short to where it barely tickled her shoulders. Darren and Ulrich were covered with the same wear but with different colors.

It had been at least seven years since Lenore last stepped foot upon the stony-streets of Paris. She was in Hungry not too long ago and had a long lost feeling of sickness in her stomach that could've been only cured by her curiosity of how Paris was when she last left it. So, they all left almost immediately, rented a town house by the ports, and settled in to enjoy what France had to offer. However, Lenore's mind was being troubled with the thought of Erik…. She had separated from him at the bottom of the Opera House, unwillingly at that, and hadn't heard from him since. Lenore traveled most of Europe since then, searching for her father, Gordon T. Williams. But the thought of Erik always carried through her like nagging mosquitoes buzzing around her head. …The thought of his safety was solely the purpose of coming here, and acknowledging that would melt the ice of fear and worry that was nesting in the pit of her gut.

But…. what if he was injured? Suffering? What if he had been caught by the police? Surely no, but there's always a chance… and what if…. What if Erik was…. Was….

"Lenore!" shouted Ulrich, grabbing her shoulder and holding her firmly, "Slow down, Lenore!" Ulrich's once mousy hair had evolved into a rich, golden color with his bright, blue eyes shining in the winter's moon with puffs of steam from his lips.

"Yah," Darren said, running up to them. His hair had gotten darker as well, with his eye's almost matching his hair. His facial features were strongly built with a morning scruff growing on his face, "You were running so quickly, you almost flipped someone over! …. Anything wrong…?"

Yes indeed, the boys had grown out of their childhood stages and into adulthood with stronger voices, bodies, and more sense of the world than ever before.

Lenore looked at the ground with guilt in her eyes, "My apologies, boys, my thoughts wondered onto old water's again, they did. I'm just worried about… Well…." Her eyes grew softer, and then she slowly closed them with a sigh.

The men both looked at each other then nodded, "Don't worry, Lenore," Darren said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and shaking them slightly, "We'll find him, don't worry. I promise."

* * *

The chains which shackled his weak structure were beginning to freeze up the raw skin around his ankle and wrists. The only thing he was wearing was a pair of long pants that were no help to him what's so ever in the cold wind. The wind blew hard, causing him to gasp out and shiver under the hateful cold. He scooted toward the corner of the barred walls, leaned against them but only flinched when the bitter cold touched his bruised skin. The breath he was exhaling was shallow and hoarse with little steam from that. 

_No one… Please have… Anyone come tonight…_Erik thought miserably. His eyes heavily dropped but he forced them to stay open _I'm going to freeze to death out…out here……_He shivered violently and brought his knees to his chest. _……Christine……_Erik thought …_Christine……How I would……Love to hear……Your voice……again……angel…_

Suddenly, the tents flap opened, making Erik jerk his head up with attention.

A gruff-looking man with a wired beard walked in with a crowd full of people that were looking excited and fearful at the same moment. Erik glanced at the man's side and saw a long, leather whip which has several of them on one handle.

Erik abruptly looked down, breathing in quick breaths and put a hand over his mask, shaking his head, "N…No…." he breathed.

The man sneered and opened the cage and approached Erik, "…..Get up……," he growled.

Erik's teeth chattered quickly, _It's too cold… even a dingbat like him………should know that………_He closed his eyes.

"I said…. Get UP!" The man savagely kicked Erik in the face, knocking him over on the steel floor. The people gasped and drew closer to the cage. The man grinned darkly and grabbed Erik's arm and pulled him to his knee's, "Behold!" he roared, "The face which the Devil himself has rejected!" Erik turned his head away from the grabbing hand with a groan but it eventually latched itself to his white mask and tore it off of his face.

The people gasped and loomed even closer but Erik used what strength he had to jerk himself away from the man's hold, "NO…!" he breathed, crouching over and holding his face.

Erik's 'master' growled angrily, forcefully grabbed Erik's hair and pulled it to the light, "You dare protest…. Beast…. Monster…!" The people gasped and shrieked with glee at the sight, throwing bits of food and stones at the pitiful man. The man threw Erik forward, but the chains were so short, he just hung in forward, motionless.

The man took his many-headed, leather whip and raised it to the air over his head and lashed it out on Erik's back.

Erik made but only one shout of agony but bit his lip soon after. He dug his nails into the palm of his hands, bleeding out his blood and it trailing down his wrist and arm as the lashing continued mercilessly. The bone-freezing cold made it even more, if possible, painful. Erik closed his eyes tightly, tears burning them and streaming down his face but refusing to scream, which was bubbling in his chest. The people gaped out and some even cheered in glee. …How?

The brutal beating finally stopped after an agonizing five, full minutes. Erik gasped out, shaking terribly under the blood (and flesh) loss and the freezing cold. However, the blood that was dripping down his back made it somehow warm but the opened, gaping wounds were screaming from the weather.

The crowd threw coins and other bits of rubbish around the cage and the leader hastily picked them up, walked out at last, closed the door (locking it automatically), and started counting the money.

Erik's body was in shock. He'd never done a 'show' in such terrible weather. _I'm………going to die………any………possible………damned……second……_ He thought. His body was shivering, the ends of his hands went blue and his lips went pale.

_Death……Is going to……be very……slow for……me……

* * *

_

The trio was walking down a somewhat crowed street and Lenore suddenly noticed a group of people that looked unusually rowdy for the time of night.

"Did you see the _face?_" One girl said, looking white from fright.

Lenore stopped in her tracks, throwing out an arm in front of the men with narrowed eyes. The boys stopped, looked at her, and then looked at what she was looking at.

"I know ze face was so horrible!" Another spoke. "Do ya think it's 'uman?" A small man gasped.

Lenore quickly approached the crowd, looking intimidating, "Excuse me, but may I ask what you're talking about?" she asked pleasantly.

A gaunt and tall woman drew out from the group with the cigar in her teeth, "Zere is a bunch of Gypsies down ze road with an _interesting _performer."

"……What..…?"

"Go see for yourself, you white-haired tramp."

Lenore immediately jumped up to the attack but was grabbed by Darren's strong arms and pulled back, leaving her swearing and cursing at the top of her lungs.

Ulrich walked up to the women with a glare, "That is not a vay to speak to a lady, you projecting Banshee." He sneered.

The women looked as if she had been slapped in the face, but she smiled rather snobbish, "Oooh, and who are you two?"---she glanced at Darren—"some sort of sex slaves or somezing?"

Both men looked shocked at this, Darren, who had Lenore raised into the air, looked disgusted at the idea, "What the Hell?"

"That's it!" Lenore jerked off of Darren's hold, pulled out two, Walker Colts: one of them silver and the other ebony, with Lenore scowling angrily. They both clicked.

Abruptly, the crowd backed off and scattered throughout the street. Lenore quickly put the guns away within her coat when people started to notice the rabble.

"Damn, Lenore, why so—"

Before Darren could finish his question, Lenore started walking down the road to where the crowd came from, walking quite quickly and looking determined. The boys looked at each other and followed.

They walked down the road for about ten minutes before they stumbled upon a small circus full of Gypsies. Some were of the weirdest of fashion, bending themselves in wild positions and animals had different parts of items like wings and horns that were attached to their bodies. The environment was just as awful: hay, animal waste, ash, trash, and the smell of cigar was in the air, making them cover their faces completely. The owners of some tents were trying to lure them into their 'lairs', no doubt wanting the friend's money.

What a bunch of greedy ghouls.

"Lowering themselves down to pond scum… no…. disgracing yourself for money is lower than pond scum…. It's inhumane…," Lenore growled, glaring needles at a man with a goatee, grinning at her.

"Mein Gott….," Ulrich whispered, "Vhat is vorth this….?"

"Greed can do amazing things to people. Consuming their lusts for money…. Damn zombies." Darren muttered, snorting at some.

Lenore stopped and looked up at a tent and read out-loud, "'The Devil's Reject'…? ….What the fuck?" she said.

"Lenore!" Ulrich exclaimed, "Your language, child!"

Darren sniggered while Lenore shrugged, "I'm still annoyed by that 'white-haired tramp' slip…." She sighed.

Suddenly, a gruff man snaked out of the tent looking down at the white-haired girl, "Closed," he growled.

Lenore jumped back, bumping into Darren, "Oh!" She gasped, "I-I….. Excuse me, sir….." Lenore bowed her head, her short hair flowing downward.

"Well!" The man said excitedly, "…What is this…. Hair…?" He ran his dirty fingers through her hair.

Lenore quickly slapped his hand away, "Don't touch me!" she snarled.

Darren grabbed Lenore's collar and pulled her back, thrusting himself forward and he was quite taller than the other man, "Back off, scruffy. You're not laying one of your dirty paws on her….," he hissed defensively.

"Hey," said the bearded man, holding his hands up, "No trouble…. Just an offer…." He then smiled darkly.

"Und…?" Ulrich said, walking up to the man with his hands behind his back and his brows raised.

The man looked at Lenore with a twisted grin, baring gnarled, yellow teeth, "If you sell that sweet creature, I'll give you 500 francs for her."

"EXCUSE ME!" Lenore shrieked.

The man was lucky Lenore was held by Darren, or she would've torn the rude man's face off, shouting at him, "YOU INSULTING, LOW-LIFE, DIRT-BAG BASTARD! HOW DARE YOU SAY SUCH A THING! YOUR LUCKY I'M BEING HELD---LET ME GO, YANK!" Lenore kicked Darren squarely in the shin, making him shout out and letting her go. Lenore turned her body and launched a swift kick at the man's head, making him stagger back with a bleeding forehead. Lenore then grabbed him by the shirt, pulled him close to her face with a scowl and flaring nostrils, "….Out of my sight, bloody Warmonger…." The man gaped and ran off leaving Lenore steaming on the spot and shocked guys around her. "I hate people," she snarled.

"I hope we don't get sued or anything…." Darren moaned, rubbing his ankle.

"_I hope that man dies from brain damage!_" Lenore barked savagely.

Lenore, Darren, and Ulrich both walked into the entrance of the tent just to satisfy the curiosity of 'The Devil's Reject'. When they walked inside the tent was dimly lit and the only thing in the center was a large, steel cage….With a man chained inside.

They all stopped at the sight. The man was breathing raggedly and shivering in the cold. He was bent over with his head hiding between his knees, groaning.

Lenore looked at them both with raised brows but didn't say anything. She looked back with a leaned head to one side, trying to figure out if this was a simple circus trick or if that poor creature was even real. Lenore slowly walked forward, lowering herself down towards the cage, examining the person. She got down to her knees and looked and looked….

"….H-Hello…?" She said uncertainly.

The man's head slowly rose…. His left side was completely deformed with a skull, scars, and terribly blistered lips.

It was Erik!

Lenore visibly screamed in shock and flung herself back, knocking over Darren and then knocked Ulrich like dominos.

"ERIK! Erik, my GOD! It's you, it's you!" Lenore said excitedly, scuttling towards the cage on her knees and grabbing the bars, "Erik, it's me, _LENORE_!"

Erik's eyes widened as he too leaned forward but was pulled back by the chains.

Lenore started to panic as if the entire tent was on fire, "Ah, ah! Wait, let me try and find and bloody way—"She was shuffling through her pockets, "Must be some sort of damn—AH-HA!" She pulled out a small pocket knife and jabbed it into the lock and twisted it deep into the lock then slammed into it making it shatter and open. Lenore scrambled into the cage and embraced Erik tightly.

"….L…Lenore…. How…?" Erik gasped.

"It doesn't matter how… What matters is—Oh my God…." Lenore pulled her hand that was on her back and saw blood, "Your body… Oh my word, you're freezing cold!" She looked at his hands and her eyes widened, "He's got frostbite….," she whispered. Without another thought Lenore quickly pulled out her Colts set them aside and quickly squirmed to get her jacket off.

"Lenore-? What are you doing?" Darren gaped.

"He's developing or has Hypothermia….." Ulrich said breathlessly.

Lenore had succefully taken her jacket off and thrown it over Erik's shoulders. Erik gasped and shivered more violently.

"Easy, easy, easy……," Lenore said smoothly. She took another pocket knife and started unlocking the shackles that bond Erik, "Just t-t-take it e-easy, m-mate. Were g-going to get you out of h-h-here." Lenore was in such a tizzy, she almost cut herself several times when trying to pick the locks.

"Hang on, Lore," Darren said shakily, pulling out one of his own knives and starting to work on the lock, "Ulrich, you watch out for anybody tha' might come through, alright?"

Ulrich just nodded and stood in front of the entrance but watched his friends help the bonded man.

"O-Ok," Lenore said, breaking the last lock, "E-Erik…?" She cupped his face with her hands and looked him in the eyes, "Can you s-s-stand…? Erik…?" she asked in a breath.

"Vait!" Ulrich said, "Ve live quite far from here, Lenore, vhat do you intend to do? Valk all the vay in his condition? ….He von't last long…."

Lenore's eyes shifted then she looked at Darren, "Darren," she said, "Listen carefully: I want you to go get a taxi, understand? Have them park as close as possible from here, alright?"

Darren nodded and ran out but almost tripped over himself over the ice but ran even faster.

"At that speed," said Ulrich, watching Darren run, "He too might need un doctor…"

Erik finally nodded as an answer, gasping, "You…… Lenore… A-All o-o-of you… Your…."

Lenore placed a numbing finger on his cold lips, "Shh… Don't speak…. Now, brace y-yourself…." Lenore put Erik's arm over her shoulder and stood up, carrying him with her. Erik's vocally moaned and shivered as if he had frozen on the spot. "I know…! P-P-Please bare with m-m-e…. I'm sorry…." She slowly walked forward, noticing that he was unbelieveably light-weight… and malnorished.

"Need any—" Ulrich started.

"I'm fine." Lenore said flatly. She glanced over at the tents corner and saw a nasty-looking whip. She sighed…

"……Wait……." Erik gasped.

"What i-is it, Erik?" Lenore asked.

"…My mask…."

Lenore groaned, "Erik, r-r-really…. You don't n-need…"

Ulrich quickly walked over and grabbed the white mask that was in the corner, "Ve don't haff time for this, Lenore. Step lightly." He walked outside without even looking at her.

* * *

**...You're still here...? Blast, you are! Thanks so much! Like the German accent...? I wasn't too sure about it but... Meh... Isn't Lenore nice? Don't worry, you'll find out how (and why) her hair is white. Things will come together sooner or later, thank you!**  



	2. Many Things Have Changed, Haven't They?

**A/N: Alrighty then, this is my first story in FanFiction... how's ****it looking so far...? Anyway, it's very long and it develops very...colourfully... If you don't like to read detailed things, than this isn't for you. By the by, there's a lot of German language in this, so, for thoes of you who are teaching yourselves, this is a good story for you! D I also want to add Lenore is very skilled with many different languages. Not to get confused or anything, but she's Irish-English...Well... Black Irish, if you know what that is. **

Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom Of The Opera, it's original aurthor and/or creator does!

Lenore Haydes, Darren Smith, and Ulrich Arzt (c) Me, however

* * *

Many things have changed, haven't they? 

Lenore, Erik and Ulrich walked out and found that Darren almost literally had a taxi carriage in front of the circus.Lenore wentand gave the driver a handsome amount of money to keep himself quiet and not tell anyone about what has happened.They helped Erik into the carriage and Lenore directed the man to their town house by the port. They had arrived there within fifteen minutes and quickly got into the house, however Darren wasn't too sure about the drivers loyalty.

"I still say we should've knocked the guy out…" He muttered.

Lenore didn't say a word and layed Erik on the couch near the fire, "One of you light the fire—quickly."

Ulrich strided to the kitchen and ran back with a bottle of rum, opened it and poured it in the fire which contained a few large logs, "Darren," he said, looking at him, "Do you haff a light? You must…."

"I'm tryin' to quit…….," growled Darren, looking annoyed and pulling out a box of matches.

Ulrich quickly grabbed them and started to flick the edges to the box, had one lit and leaned in to put it on the drentched logs….

"Hey!" Darren said suddenly. Ulrich started and looked up at him. "Buddy, I'd do something better than that…."

"Vas—" Suddenly, a great flame burst up, knocking Ulrich back and burning strands of bangs in his hair. He laid flat on his back, looking shell-shocked. Darren sniggered.

"Darren!" Lenore snapped, "Go get some bandages, now!"

Darren jumped and scuttled off ito the kitchen.

"I swear," Lenore growled, pressing her hands together with Erik's hand between them in her attempt to warm them, "That man will _never _grow up… hang on—" Lenore started patting her sides with her hands, searching for—"My Walkers! My Walkers, damn, I left them back at the tent! No-no-noo—"

Suddenly, both of her gun appeared in front of her face: Ulrich had them in his hands with a smile, "You vould forget your 'ead if it vasn't attached it your shoulders, Lenore…" Lenore quickly grabbed them and put them in her back pockets, heaving a massive sigh.

Darren had came in with an armful of bandages and peroxide, "I-I didn't know what to get, so I go a whole bunch of diffrerent kinds--" He dropped them on the rug between the fireplace and the couch "—so yeah…. Right."

Lenore nodded and smiled, "They're fine, Darren, really," She grabbed some cotton and a bottle of peroxide, she undid the bottle and pressed the cotton over it then tipped it slightly and laid it on the rug again, "His hands….," Lenore whispered as she took one of them and slowly opened it quite carefully to see four, deep, red lines and saw his nails were red with blood as well. Lenore bit her lip and blinked rapidily to hold back her tears as she shakily put the cotton and gently patted the wounds.

Suddenly, Erik made a loud shout of pain, clutching Lenore's aiding hand who leaped at the sudden outburst of noise. Erik fluttered his eye opened and coughed, starting to shiver again. He looked over and saw Lenore's terrified face, he blinked then his mouth twitched into a smile.

Lenore made a small smile and said, "….May I have my hand back now….?" She asked.

Erik made a note of looking surprised and jerked his hand open to free Lenore's.

"You know…..," Darren said with a smile, now with his coat and other winter wear completely off with nothing more then a shirt and a pair of baggy jeans with his dark hair untidy as usual, "…..Our landlord won't allow a fourth, unemployed, person in our little town house, Lenore. It's bad enough that he's wanting 255 francs from us _each_."

Ulrich sighed and sat on a nearby chair, "Damn leech, vhich ve all know he's guilty a sin vhen it comes to money," he muttered.

"Well, fuck him then—"

"Excuse me?"

Erik had apparently heard this and he was trying to sit up, pressed the bottom part of him palm to set himself up, "What did… you say, Nightingale?"

Lenore looked shocked then sheepish another second, "Well… I said…," Lenore looked at Ulrich who was grinning from ear to ear and giving her a look like 'I-told-you-so'. Lenore scowled to herself _Damn it, I'm not twelve anymore and I'm sick of people treating me like a child—I've always hated that even when I was a child! _"…..Does it matter….? ….Erik, are you feeling alright? You should be laying down, mate…"

Erik was quiet for a bit, then held out both of his hands in front of her with a weak smile, "…..Could….. could you maybe…… Lenore?" He asked in a quiet voice.

"Oh! Sorry!" Lenore said, taking another cotton ball and wetting it with the peroxide, "Now… This is going to hurt a bit... and… Just brace yourself, lad…" She frowned. Lenore knew how tender and sensitive hands were, especially to people that play instruments with them. Lenore plays the piano and has had one of her hands brutely burned to where the nerves themselves were damaged and thought to have never moved again, but somehow she managed to make her hand work again (and then holding an evil grudge againt La Carlotta, being that it was her fault in the first place that Lenore got burned, but that's a different story).

"…..It's ok…..Lenore…," Erik whispered.

Lenore made a quick sigh and put the cotton on the badly infected wound and Erik inhaled deeply and sighed, his fingers twitching with eyes closed. Lenore pressed her lips together and drew her hand away slowly, watching the cuts bubble from the medication. Ulrich had gotten up and headed for the kitchen. The next thing was heard was water flowing into a pot and a click of a stove and walked back in with his trademark waistcoat and grey trousers that he wore ever since he was fourteen and wanted to grow up. And, of course, his thin glasses.

"I think hot vater vould be a bit more helpful than hydrogen peroxide," he said, drying his hands with a white, cotton hand-rag, "und probably be less damaging…"

"Vas?" Lenore said, looking interested, "How so, Ulrich, mate?"

Ulrich sat down on the same chair, and Darren was sitting on another chair just opposite of him, "Vell, the thing with peroxide ist that it does clean vounds, yes, but it has un nasty habit of burning the skin as vell. So, I suggest ve use hot vater to drain out the infection, vhich I'll assume there ist." He explained very professionally.

Lenore looked annoyingly at him, "That's kind of important information to tell me, Ulrich…" She said sarcastically. She was bandaging Erik's palms now, quite carefully and slowly, she noticed the ends of his fingers had turned back to his normal skin color, thankfully and he had stopped shivering because of the warm fire. "His frostbite is gone, thank God."

Ulrich laughed lightly, "I thought you haff stopped believing in 'God', Lenore?" He asked simply.

"Schließen Sie ab!" Lenore snapped and she stood up straight. Ulrich smirked and shook his head. Lenore then took out her Walkers and headed for upstairs, "I'll be only a bit and…. Try not to burn down the house while I'm gone, would you…?" she said with a smirk and vanished behind the wall.

Darren cocked his head, aiming his ear towards the wall, listening to the thumping of Lenore's feet die away and finally stop, "Finally!" He said and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, pulled out one, leaned towards the fire and lit it then took in a huff of smoke and sighed, sinking into the chair, "…God, I've been dogging for of these babies…"

"Darren you idiot, put that thing out!" Ulrich snapped.

"….Why…?"

"Because—"

"Because we have an ill friend that doesn't need to suck in that smog and _because I said so_, now put it _out_." Lenore had walked down the stairs wearing a pair of sweatpants and a shirt looking furious with a scowl. Her short hair flicked slightly in the air in curls.

Darren quickly took the cigarette and flicked it into his mouth with his tongue and shut his mouth with an innocent look. His eyes watering…

Lenore sighed and walked down, "Keep it in your mouth where it belongs….," She walked and sat down next to Erik with a slight smile.

Erik stared at her then looked at her hair, "….It's short….," he said hoarsely, "What….. Happened?"

"Oh…. I got sick of it and I cut it off. It'll grow back, that's the good thing about hair I suppose….," Lenore said sheepishly.

Ulrich wasn't much attention to them, staring at Darren with a satisfied smile and chuckling to himself, Darren's eyes were watering and he was choking quietly, coughing out puffs of smoke. Lenore saw this and watched to see how long he would last with disappointment in her eyes.

Darren finally jumped up, ran outside and started coughing and choking.

"I'm tempted to lock him out…," Ulrich said, looking annoyed.

"Don't let him come back in unless he's tobacco-free, Ulrich," Lenore muttered, "until then, he say freeze his toes off." She narrowed her eyes at the door and patted her fingers together.

Erik suddenly grabbed Lenore's hands gently, brought them towards him and he stared at them, "…..You're….. Still a Pianist…. I hope?" He turned them to expose her palms and saw a bit of black due to gunpowder and he remembered the Walker guns she was talking about, "Lenore….. you're not……. Dealing with guns anymore, are you…? ……Why…?"

Lenore quickly drew her hands away, grabbed Erik's and closed them together, "We'll talk about that later, until then, I want to make sure you'll be alright…. Okay?" She said quietly.

Darren walked back in looking pale, groaning, "N-Never again… Ughh…"

"Frieren Sie," Ulrich said, standing up and starting to go through his pockets, "you're not to come in through here with"--he pulled out a packet of a cigarettes, broke it in half and chucked it outside--"tobacco."

Darren looked shocked then he folded his arms and sat down on the chair looking grumpy.

Grinning, Lenore stood up, patted her legs and walked into to the kitchen.

Erik watched her, thinking_, I suppose Darren was right about one thing……Lenore has grown up into a responsible………wonderful…… young women……she can't be older than nineteen either……But, as usual, she's more mature than her age……_Erik smiled to himself. But then felt guilty…. He hadn't thought about Lenore at all since they separated. All he could think about was…….

…..Christine….

Erik raised his hand to his chest, over his heart, and heaved a sigh, _What a terrible person I am……… So selfish…… Lenore has probably been worried ill over me and… Christine…… She probably hasn't paid me much mind……… And then Lenore risks herself for me……**again**……What a silly child she is…… _

_"OUCH!" _Lenore suddenly yelped, making them all jump.

Darren stood to his feet, looking up over at the kitchen, "You alright, Lore?" He called out.

"I hate these damn, metal pots!"

Ulrich laughed out loud, "She forgot about conduction….. Poor dear…. Need any help?" He asked with a grin and raised brows.

"Leave me alone, I can do it myself, I can!"

Ulrich waved his hand, "Alright, alright…. You'd think she vas ten again, vouldn't you, Jackel?"

Darren smiled, "Yeah. But…heh….she's gotten a bit…Well…. Lets say she's gotten a tad 'fuller'….and more—" He put out both of his index fingers in the air, far apart, then he had them slowly go down and had them barely meet at the center and spread out again when the went down completely, making the shape of an hourglass, "—Well….you know…." He grinned, going pink in his cheeks with Ulrich rolling his eyes.

"Ulrich….," Erik said.

Ulrich jumped and looked at Erik as if he just noticed him for the first time, "J-Ja?"

"….My mask…?"

"Oh! Sorry…," Ulrich quickly got up, headed for the coat-rack and shuffled through the pockets of his coat until he pulled out a white, half-mask out of one of the pockets and walked over to give it to Erik who hastily put it on, "That's why you've been quiet….. Rather nervous around company, sir?"

Lenore had walked back in with a large put of water, wearing massive oven mittens with a few large towels hanging on her arm. She looked quite ridiculous.

Darren grinned at her and couldn't pass up the chance of teasing her, "Hey there, Rag Doll, mind if you come strolling my way, huh, huh?" He jumped his eyes at her and made Ulrich choke on a cough.

Lenore growled, "You know, Yank, if I had any sense left in me, I would spill all of this hot water on your skull, but, fortunately for you, Erik needs it for his wounds….. So, Pooh on you." She stuck her tongue out at him and walked to the rug and carefully set the pot and the towels down. Then Lenore noticed Erik's mask and sighed, "I've told you once…but I won't start….I'll only say this: I _hate it _when you wear that thing…"

Erik shrugged very slightly and said, "Don't start."

By now, without a doubt, Lenore was exhausted from the adrenaline rush and all of the excitement and she was falling asleep on the spot. The clock that was on the self which was over the fireplace read: five 'o clock. Lenore yawned as she put on the last bandage on Erik's back. When both Ulrich and she were finished with the task, Erik had his stomach and his chest wrapped up in bandages and he looked like he was feeling much better and thanked them respectively.

Lenore stretched her hands over her head and yawned, throwing them downward limply, "So sleeeeeeeplyyyy……," she mumbled, rubbing her heavy eyes. She suddenly felt a pair of hand that was laid flatly on her back, pushing her slightly.

It was Ulrich, "You should get you bed, you're falling asleep on your feet," he said gently.

Lenore smiled, then looked at the other two, "You sure? You might need me for something else…..," she asked.

"Naw," Darren said, scratching his head, "we're ok, Lore, you go on ahead…. I'm gonna tuck in for the night—er—"He looked outside and saw the sunlight breaking through, "—morning, I mean…" He grinned with half-open eyes.

Erik nodded, "I suppose I'll stay on this couch…. It's quite comfortable." He said.

Lenore looked concerned, "Are you positive, Erik? Because I can always—"

Lenore was stopped by a forceful push by Ulrich, "You're starting to sound like a house vife, Lenore, now get to bed," he said, pushing her up the stairs, "ve'll be in shortly….."

Batting Ulrich's hand away, Lenore huffed then smiled at the three of them, looking relieved at last nights events, "Codladh sámh duit," she said in such a light, Irish voice that it caught all of them all guard, which made her giggle at their dumbfounded faces and walk upstairs to bed. She walked at the end of the hall to the one door that was her room. Lenore opened it to find her bed to the far left side of the room with a window at the opposite side and the one thing that took up most of the space was a wonderful, ebony Grand Piano with its ivory keys tucked under its lid and its wires exposed to the world and all its beauty. Lenore smiled at it and closed and then walked towards it in a funny manner: her hands behind her back dancing back and forth on her tip-toes and finally reaching the bench to open the lid to find all perfect, white-ivory keys soundlessly 'asleep' and perfectly aligned with each other with not a speck of dust. Lenore softly touched the keys with the tips of her fingers, tracing them down the route of white and cold, yet soft and gentle tones of the keys, feeling any trace of abnormal traits that might've occurred while she was gone and she could also hear every note for every key in her memory as she ran her fingers down them. Lenore raised her fingers and silently closed the lid like she was covering a black blanket over her children, bent down and gently kissed it and patted it.

"I'm obsessive….," she cooed to herself, laughing lightly and crawling into her bed and sighing in what little sanity she had left. The curtains were closed, which were black, mind you, just to keep the light out, and the bed sheets were deep, royal-blue. In this, Lenore quietly drifted to sleep…

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**Ok, chapter 2 is up and it only gets better! Like I said before, things are going to develop slowly but it will get good, I promise! 'Til then, Lenore will entertain us with her dark humor... Well... Not in the next one...shifts eyes**


	3. Nightmare of the Opera and of the Past

**A/N: A very short chapter, figured you wanted a break after all of _that _points at the other chapters. A dream chapter...! Laa! ...Not really...**

Disclamier: Phantom Of The Opera (c) Their respective owners

Lenore, Darren, Ulrich (c) Me

**_

* * *

The Dream of the Opera and Of Time That Has Passed_**

_Lenore was ten-years-old, in her room reloading her fathers revolver. She was about to start her rounds to patrol the opera after living there for almost two-years. Lenore placed it down in a drawer, closed it, then opened her trunk to search for her pieces of writing when a loud banging noise coming from her door made her jump and spin around._

_The door slammed open to reveal the culprit's of two stage hands came walking into her room, obviously uninvited. Lenore slammed down the trunk and pressed herself against it, looking up at them._

_"What do you want?" she asked bitterly._

_"We heard you were causing trouble," said one with long sideburns and massive arms, "is that true?"_

_"……No……?"_

_The other man, who looked like his twin, snickered, looking thirsty for something, "Well, either way, your not doing your job. The Opera Ghost is still causing us trouble……I think we should get rid of our current guard………… and sell her for money, being that she's nothing more than a Circus Freak!"_

_"WHAT DID YOU CALL ME!" Lenore snarled, running forward towards him in rage._

_Suddenly, Lenore was grabbed by the throat and slammed into a large mirror, shattering it into massive pieces. Her neck felt like it was being crushed like a twig as her back was grinding into the glass, with a waterfall of blood falling behind her. The force dropped her onto the pile of glass, unfortunately, she instinctively put her hands in front of her and thus she severally sliced them. Lenore had cut her forehead, blood dripping down one-half of her face, completely covering it in red. Her body was in wretched shock, shaking and gasping for breath and feeling the shards of glass in her back. Lenore was then fiercely kicked in the head, sending her back and slamming into the shattered mirror again. She could feel the glass sinking into her arm and in her legs as she scowled at the men, tears running down her face, but she refused to scream in agony._

_The men laughed at her, "That'll teach you to screw with us! Little freak……… And you're not going to tell anybody about this are you…? …… Didn't think so……," said the other man and he kicked her in the chest and pushed her further into the glass, "We'll leave you to clean up all of this mess………See ya……" They both strutted out, laughing._

_Lenore groaned, leaning forward and staggering up and reaching behind her to feel a large piece of glass imbedded in her back. She grabbed it and slowly pulled it out with a gasp and dropped it on the ground. Her eyes were focused on the door…… Then she looked at the drawer as she stood up straight and opened it, pulling out her gun. She slowly walked towards the door; still hearing the men's footsteps, blood washing down her back and clicking the gun. She saw them, only a few yards away……_

_"………HEY!" she gasped. The men turned around, then jumped in terror to see her even able to stand, "………Don't………call me……… A FREAK!" She fired two shots, which were all she needed, as both bullets hit the men between the eyes, knocking them both down, dead.  
_

_

* * *

_**...Whoa. Well, you've gotten a peek into Lenore's past. Rather dark for a childhood but you can see what she and Erik had in common: people shunning you out because of yourlooks alone. But, she's pretty cheerful now, depending on what Darren does to piss her off, eh? Oh, another thing, Lenore mixes accents from time to time. Lets see if you can spot it out, shall we? **


	4. German Breakfast in Paris

**Whew... Well, here, you'll see the relationship between Lenore, Ulrich, and Darren--trust me, there is conflict. Ulrich, of course, being from Germany, cooks the breakfast. Isn't he the sweetest...? Darren's a bit miffed about that, though... Oh, and a bit of trivia for you: The Colt Walker's that Lenore owns are quite powerful. The** **largest and most powerful blackpowder handgun ever made and only 1100 were ever made in 1847. The Colt Walker, at 450 ft-pounds of muzzle energy, was just a little more than half as powerful than the mighty ****.44 Magnum. So, you can imagine what kind of fire-power she's carrying... Later you'll find out how and why.**

Phantom Of The Opera (c) Their respective owners and/or creators

Lenore, Darren, Ulrich, however (c) ...ahem...Me.

**

* * *

**

**German Breakfast in Paris**

Lenore shot up from her bed in cold sweat and a throbbing head. She rolled her eyes in the back of her head and sighed, grabbing a pillow and holding it tight against her chest and sighing into it. Her head shook in reassurance, muttering encouraging words that it was only a frightening dream. Lenore slowly got out from the bed and searched around for the cabinets to find a pocket watch. The room was dimly lit, but it was bright to her as she opened the watch and read: one o' clock in the afternoon. Lenore yawned widely and scratched her head, making her way to the door and slowly opening it, just enough for one eye to seek through, looking around. She closed the door and huffed to herself, seeing another door in her room that led to a bathroom. She quickly shuffled there to refresh herself and brush her teeth to finally wake up and walk downstairs to see Ulrich in the kitchen, Darren poking the ashen logs, and Erik lying on the couch.

Darren noticed her and waved slightly, "Hey, your awake rather early, Lore," he said rather quietly. He made a sudden gesture to Erik, and then he put a finger to his lips to note her to keep silent.

Lenore made a soft 'oh' in acknowledgement and nodded. She slowly crept forward, leaned over the couch to see Erik sleeping soundly. Her blue-eyes gazed at Darren, giving him a relieved expression, "….Thank goodness," she whispered, "…….I was….worried….." She stood up and walked to the kitchen to see (and smell!) the food at Ulrich was making, which was rather silly because women—well, this day in age unfortunately—are suppose to make breakfast but, Ulrich was a sweetie and knew that Lenore's been through too much to make breakfast for three people. But suddenly, Lenore started scratching her back furiously, remembering her dream and still feeling the tingle of glass sinking into her spine, causing her to cry out and jump on the spot, trying to scratch the same spot where the large shard of glass had sunk into her back nine years ago.

"Vhat are you doing, Lenore?" Ulrich said, stirring some sausages, "You've woken up with termites in your shirt or something?" He grinned.

"Nien," Lenore said, "I just had a nasty dream, is all…."

Ulrich frowned, "Another one, ja…? …..It's been awhile since you've had one…. Do you vant to talk about it…?" he asked.

Lenore yawned again, reached for a drawer to open out some silver-ware and plucked out a small fork, "No thanks, lad, if you've heard one story you've heard them a-a-a-all…," she yawned again. Lenore rubbed her eyes, "Besides,"—she sunk in the fork into a sausage and blew on the steam to cool it down and bit it in half, "I'm tough."

"Vell," Ulrich said, adding a few spices to the meats, "if you consider yourself 'tough' just by eating a hot, haff-cooked sausage, then your not really that tough, Lenore, hate to say." He jerked his eyes brows and shrugged. "Haff you heard from your Vater yet?" He asked suddenly.

Lenore had reached over to the fridge by the time Ulrich asked, grabbing a carton of eggs and a bag of beacon, "……Nope, no I haven't. He's probably busy as usual and I don't mind that, but he does expect me to be back in a couple of days or he'll come for me. …Again." She added, jerking her eyes to the ceiling with Ulrich grinning.

"He ist just vorried about you, lovely Fräulein, there ist no crime in that," Ulrich explain, turning off the stove and putting the sausages onto a plate, "I swear, ve need more than one pan…!" he growled, grabbing the pan and running it over some sink water and shaking it off and turning on the stove again to dry it with the fire, "….Vell, I suppose you don't need a cornucopia of pots und pans to make a good German Breakfast, vhich I will make less fatting, I assure you." He said, grinning at Lenore with raised brows through his glasses.

Lenore smiled, "Well, nothing more damaging than Irish food in the morning….Oh… and Ulrich….."

"Ja?" he said, adding the beacon on the pan, sizzling.

Lenore leaned up on her toes and kissed Ulrich on the cheek, "Thank you so much for helping Erik for me…," she whispered in his ear, "I really appreciate it…. Thanks."

Ulrich almost instantly turned a deep shade of crimson with his eyes bugged and his brows touching the sky, "Y-Y-Ihr Empfang, N-N-Nightingale...," he stammered, clearing his throat, "Y-You know I-I-I don't d-d-d-deserve all o-o-of the c-c-c-credit. Heh…." He smiled from ear to ear.

Lenore started to walk out towards the living room, "Oh, and Ulrich….?"

Ulrich looked at her with burning cheeks.

"The beacons burning….," She chuckled, pointing her index finger at the black smoke that was building up and Ulrich quickly fixed the issue by turning them over and turning down the heat. Lenore walked in but abruptly stopped by a look by Darren, looking rather peeved.

"Well, well, aren't you rather _generous _today?" he said curtly.

Lenore scratched her nose in silence.

"I helped out too, you know…," he said, "Don't I get something?"

"The satisfaction of saving an innocent soul, Darren, that's something I can never do." Lenore said seriously. Darren sighed…. Lenore smiled, understanding Darren's feelings for her. He's had these feelings for her for years and years…. Lenore walked around the couch and stood behind the chair Darren sat on, putting both of her hands on either side of his shoulders and lowered her head next to his ear, "…I know how you feel, Darren. I've always known…. But I don't think I'm the 'one' for you….."

Darren sighed, "Lenore…. I…."

"Don't worry….," Lenore said and walked over to the couch where Erik was. She went to the far end to where his head was and she slowly tip-toed in front of him and gently patted his shoulder, "Erik….? …..Erik, wake up…. You probably don't want to, but if you want a decent meal, you're going to have to get up….."

Erik's eyes twitched irritatingly before they slow opened to see the friendly face of his long-time friend, Lenore. This was the case, thankfully. He hadn't had wonderful nights sleep in such an awful, long amount of time… With the warm fire crackling and the only sound of his heartbeat slowly putting him to sleep. He blinked and slowly sat up, rubbing his head slightly.

"M-M-Morning….," Erik yawned. Erik's body shivered a chill down his back and jumped. He looked down and saw Lenore's half-smiling face.

"It's two-thirty in the afternoon, Erik. I think you must've slept in, mate…," Lenore said, "Peckish, lad…?"

Erik gave her a shocked look, "You're fooling, right?" he gasped.

"Great," she said brightly, patting him on the shoulder and stood up and then walked towards the kitchen--

"Uhm, Lenore?" Erik said quietly but loudly enough for her to hear and only her.

Lenore turned her head, her royal-blue eyes fixed on his gaze, "…Yes, Erik?" she asked.

Erik stood up and walked to Lenore, "May I talk to you… alone?" he asked in a hushed voice.

* * *

**Uh-oh... I sense a confession... Thanks for reading!**


	5. I'm Sorry I don't Understand?

**Ok... Another long chapter, but it's good! Another note: Nightingale is the nickname Lenore use to have as a child, that's why Erik's used to call her that. _In fact_, there's a Poem about a Nightingale and a white rose--which I had no idea about until much later. Well, it's pretty much about a Nightingale that adores white roses (which Lenore does), this is a Persian legend, and when Allah named the white rose "Queen Flowers", the rather impulsive nightingale flew down to embrace her and was then struck by her thorns. The birds blood dropped onto the roses, and thus, the Red Rose was created. Hmmm... That's probably why Lenore's blood tends to spill quite easily...thinksNote: I had no idea of this legend until much recently by a lovely women by the name of LadyGhost. **

The Phantom Of The Opera (c) Their wonderful owners and/or creators

Lenore, Ulrich, Darren (c) ME.  


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I'm Sorry…..I Don't Understand?

Lenore blinked rather hard to try and figure out what there's to talk about…. Alone…? Her heart made a huge leap in her throat causing her to cough uncomfortably, "Er…S-Sure? But where…?" How strange….

Erik looked upstairs, "Perhaps…. In the hallway…?" He said.

"How did you—"

"Oh, come now, Lenore. I'm an Architecture… don't underestimate me." He gave her a smirk. Lenore hadn't seen _that_ in a long time.

"Sorry, sir," Lenore suddenly felt eight all over again, calling Erik 'sir' all the time to show her respect to her elder. Then again, she felt younger. Erik gently escorted her up the stairs silently, Darren was too busy peaking at the logs and constantly trying to entertain himself. When they were at the center of the hallway, Lenore politely had her hands in front of her, giving Erik her full attention. Erik softly smiled at her, his green and blue eyes looking rather proud and his dark-brown hair pulled back but he defiantly looked older.

"Lenore….," Erik said, looking concerned of himself to try and search certain words to describe himself at the moment.

"Listen, Erik, if this something we cannot discuss over breakfast—"

"It is!" Erik said suddenly, putting a hand over his mouth and shifting his eyes, sighing, "This is… Between us….. Lenore. It's very personal."

Lenore, who didn't realize it at the time, gave Erik such an innocent look of wonderment and curiosity that she looked like she was a small child again. Her deep-blue eyes glowing in the afternoon sun and her white-hair shining in the rays but she managed to look innocently cute to where you didn't dare raise your voice or it would be one of the greatest of sins on this great earth. It was the kind of look to where to couldn't do anything else but confess your deepest and darkest secrets and know they would be safe from anyone else…, "Us…?" she said quietly, cocking her head slightly like a curious puppy, " Em…I….. I don't understand….." Dear God, the Irish accent made it worse!

Erik took in a deep breath and sighed, looked at her sorrowfully, "…..Lenore, I've been awful to you…." He said.

"…..What….?" Lenore muttered uncertainly, "What do you mean?"

"I…," Erik hesitated, fearing that it would greatly hurt Lenore if he told her, "…Ever since we separated during that night of the falling Opera……ever since then I….. When you told me to come with you…. I know you remember, Nightingale…… When I rejected your offer……. Ever since then, Lenore…," He sighed deeply and noticed Lenore waiting very patiently for a reason, "….I haven't even paid you any mind, sweet Nightingale. I… I was very close to forgetting you entirely…. The only thing person I could think about…. Was Christine……" He suddenly noticed her deep-blue eyes had gotten darker, almost black as she looked down at her feet, almost ready to…cry.

"…..Th-That's alright…. I mean……," Lenore said quietly, "….Its understandable…… I su-suppose… …But….. Not at a-all, Erik…?"

Erik slowly shook his head, "No…"

Suddenly, Lenore jerked her head up with a bright smile and a tear rolling down her cheek, "Its okay, Erik, really is it! I mean, Christine was your first 'love' and you obsessed with her for years! It's not your fault, honestly, I don't blame you!"

Erik absolutely _knew _Lenore was lying in his face. She was giving him the same act she gave him nine years ago when she confessed her mothers death and tried to feel 'okay' about it, "Lenore, stop…."

Lenore stopped and just looked up at him with a sad face, "….I was just a child…. I wouldn't think you'd remember me at all, to be frank…. I think the only way you remember me is because of my hair, but then again, I'm use to it—"

"Stop that!" Erik snapped, "You're not suppose to get 'use to it' and you know it, Lenore! I _hate it _when you say that! You're not suppose to get at all atone to it! And, mind you, it's not because of your hair it's because of _you!_" He said then suddenly he wrapped his arms around her chest and hugged her tightly, "……I'm sorry!" he breathed, resting his chin on her shoulders.

Lenore stood there with her arms hanging loosely to her side, for once in her life, lost for words. Her face set as stone and her heart rolling at the bottom of her feet before finally coming to a halt. What are you suppose to say? What _can you say?_ After worrying about someone forseven years and finding out they forgotten about you….? And after what he's been through…. After what she's been through….

"….So….," Lenore said quietly, barely moving her lips, "…….what do you want…. Me to say…..? Herr Erik…."

Erik slowly pulled away from his embrace and looked down at the emotionless face that was Lenore's, "Lenore… I want you to….. At least except my apology…. Unless you don't want to accept it… that's understandable," He whispered.

_He's playing the victim…… ……But…… What am I suppose to do? What can I do…? _

Lenore slowly felt her chest become tight and hard to breath, feeling her vocal-cords contract and her eyes contracting having small amounts of tears collect on the corners as she leaned forward and rested her forehead on Erik's chest, breathing in sharply, "D-Don't make me choose, E-Erik…! It's not f-fair… You _know_ I would _never_ be angry…. For something as _innocent_ as that…. You know…. That I've always loved you…. like the f-f-father I did loose…."

Erik sighed at himself, feeling somewhat relieved about Lenore's thoughts as he hugged her tightly against him with a peaceful smile on his face and slowly humming a song to try to calm the remorse child. _I should've known, _he thought, _Lenore's better than that…… She's truly grown-up now……… But, I am curious about the black marks on her hands……_

"Erik…," Lenore said softly.

"Hn?"

Lenore looked up at him with prickled spots of red on her light-skinned cheeks, "I suggest you go and take a shower in Darren's room before breakfast. There's an extra, large robe for you." She smiled half-heartedly with an embarrassing expression.

Erik instantly went bright red, "Right. Don't explain," he said promptly as he quickly went into the room to the left.

"The other room, Mr. Opera Ghost!"

"That's not funny, Lenore!" Erik bounded to the room on the right and closed the door.

Lenore laughed lightly and went downstairs to find Ulrich and Darren in the kitchen arguing about what else should be used for breakfast.

"I say hash-browns are a good choice! It would go great with the sausages!" Darren exclaimed.

"Nien!" Ulrich snarled, fending Darren away with a nasty fork, "Vere not haffing anymore bread-like foods! It's bad enough we've got all these grease—"

"Boys….," Lenore sighed, feeling like a mother, leaning on the wall with folded arms and a gentle smile on her face, "….what are we bickering about…eh?"

"Lenore!" Darren said excitedly as he trotted to her, "Ulrich is being a bastard—sorry—he's not going to have any hash-browns with this breakfast! Were only having toasted bread, didn't you say you need to have wheat-like food to get your energy up, yah, yah? And…," He calmed himself down, "I think Erik might need the energy…. You know?" he said, smiling at her.

"No! Vere no haffing any—"

"…..Ulrich!" Lenore said, looking emotionally tired, "Let us make today a bit of a celebration…! Let's just have the hash-browns—as a reward for Darren's hard work for last night." She grinned at Darren who jumped like a five-year-old with glee.

Ulrich huffed and started making the potatoes into diced slices. On the side was a plate of beacon, sausages, and stacked of toasted bread with a jar of jam on the side.

Suddenly there was a hard knock on the front of the door……

Erik was enjoying himself under the hot, rushing water of the shower. His wounds did ache, yes, but thanks to the care of Lenore and Ulrich, they were healing very nicely indeed. He folded his arms and bowed his head, watching the dried blood become liquid again and snake down his legs and down into the drain in massive amounts. Erik took great care to wash himself thoroughly, God only knows since the last time he was decently bathed, scrubbing under his nails (which was a royal pain) and washing his hair and neck. Surprisingly, the bandages were rather water-proof and this wasn't much of an advantage and then again it was.

Sighing, Erik turned off the water, stepped out, wrapped a large towel around him and sitting on a stool in the steamy bathroom, dripping.

"Now it was lucky of me... Lenore… Ulrich…," He chuckled to himself, "…Darren… These children… They saved me. …..But, what are they going to do….? Their thieves… criminals… Well, even more now." He looked over his shoulder and saw a sink inches away from his nose and he leaned against it with his mask lying right above his head. He looked up at the ceiling deep in thought, recapping on memories from long ago… when he first met Lenore at age eight by a terrible accident, almost resulting in her death if it hadn't been him to save her…. When she spent weeks with him in his Labyrinth, extremely grateful and respectful towards him and bonded him in almost like a daughter-father relationship. He never thought he'd get so close to such a loner of a oddball child….. But she was comically entertaining and mischievous for her age, not to mention quite mature. However…. Lenore's curiosity got the best of her when she had taken off his mask…. He almost killed her that day, grabbing the small creature by the neck and acting like a uncontrollable animal, choking what little life she had left in her. By Lenore's quick thinking, she said she didn't think less of him… she swore, on her mothers grave….. that was the only thing that made him release her and cower away in a corner. And _then_ Lenore had the courage to approach him again, apologizing for what she had done. Erik then told her to leave, telling her that he's nothing more than a monster…. But she protested, telling _him_ he was the most intelligent person she had eve met in her life and then embracing him warmly and acting as if nothing happened. She even touched his face…. Telling him there was nothing wrong with him.

Erik, while thinking of this, had dried and put on a long, black robe and walked down the hallway and suddenly heard some noises of another man…. Much older than the boys…..

"Listen you three, I heard about the Gypsies thing last night, and I think you're apart of it!"

The man sounded extremely upset.

* * *

**Wow... Another look into the bond of Erik and Lenore... Poor Lenore always gets herself into trouble! Silly Nightingale. 8D**


	6. The Broadwood & Sons and a Irish Song

**Reward of Broadwood & Sons with a Song**

"Mr. Golloson," Came Lenore's voice, sounding upset yet stern, "you've got no proof what's so ever…. Please don't blame us for their issues!"

"But there is my dear," Mr. Golloson snapped, "several witnesses saw _you _pull out a couple of guns at a crowd then head your way to the circus. Not only that, Javart, one of the gypsies there, said _you _attacked him!"

"That's because he vas vanting to sell Lenore for _money_, Herr Golloson!" Ulrich argued.

Darren up-roared in the conversation, "And he was touching her inappropriately—and you know what I mean, sir!" He exclaimed.

"Please sir," Lenore pleaded, "we haven't done anything, were leaving Paris tomorrow…. Won't you let us go?"

Mr. Golloson sighed greatly, "Well… I don't like those circus places…. Such a wretched place…. Just tell me, Lenore… _did_ you have something to do with it…?" He asked.

Lenore hesitated, "…Y-Yes sir….," she whispered.

Erik felt his heart stop, bracing himself for what would happen next.

"……You probably had a good reason…. Yes? Not to just cause trouble…?"

"There was a very close friend of mind that I couldn't leave behind…. You must understand…….Sir……."

Mr. Golloson sighed, "Alright, alright but I want you out of here before dawn tomorrow, understand?"

"Yes sir!" They all said in concert.

"Oh and Mr. Golloson….. Thank you…. And erm….," Lenore said sheepishly.

"Yes, my dear…?"

"Your Piano… Your 'Broadwood and Sons' edition, ebony with ivory keys along with rosewood glazed with black and golden font on the front to show the creator…. Open case… _perfect _condition….," she said.

Mr. Golloson was quite in shock, "…….What about tha old thing……?" He asked quietly.

"……May I have it…..?"

There was a sudden, loud groans from Darren and Ulrich.

"Why of course, that damn thing's been sitting up there for years…. You can play the piano?" Mr. Golloson said, laughing.

"Yes, yes, YES! SIR! Yes I most certainly can, yep, yep!" Lenore said excitedly, jumping on the balls of her feet.

"Well, getting it out will be your problem, alright? By the way…. Breakfast smell's great!"

Then there was a slam of a door.

Erik walked down the stairs cautiously to see Lenore beaming with a wide, happy grin.

Darren and Ulrich rolled their eyes and sighed.

* * *

Lenore felt herself glowing on the spot, bubbling with happiness and excitement until it unleashed itself in a wild explosion, "YESSSSSS!" She shouted, jumping up and down all over the room like a madman, "A BROADWOOD & SONS GRAND PIANO! RUDDY ACE! FINALLY I FOUND ONE! IN SUCH PERFECT CONDITION AS WELL, WHAT LUCK---WHAT A CELEBRATION THIS MUST BE, LADS!" Lenore tackled both Ulrich and Darren in her excitement, hugging them both quite tightly until their heads banged together.

"Ouch---LENORE!" Darren shouted, trying to get loose.

"Lenore, you're strangling us!" Ulrich snapped, pulling away.

"Erik!" Lenore suddenly said, getting the idea of possibly causing him some minor harm as well, "I must tell him of the great news—" As Lenore went her way up the stairs, she made a sudden shout of surprise when she saw Erik standing with his arms folded, a single brow raised, and a smile. This caused Lenore to quickly stagger back, also making her trip over the couch and having her tumble behind it and land on her back with her feet in the air.

Erik sighed and shook his head, "Alright, Lenore?" He asked simply.

Lenore was quiet for a minute, catching her breath, "…I'm in the right, lad…. Though I've got a strong urge to drown myself in a bit of rum—BUT!—I'll be good and drink some water with rocks…," With a grunt, she rolled over back on her knees and grinned up at Erik, "Better, Erik?" She asked; her eyes bright.

Erik smirked and walked downstairs, "I am, without a doubt, much better, Lenore. Thank you for asking...," he said politely, leaning on the couch and staring down at her, "So, you do have a piano in your room, I take? Or the uproar you just performed was for your heath—but not of others?" He looked at the boys, rubbing their heads and looking annoyed.

Lenore smiled softly for a moment then quickly got up on her feet, "Right, you lot go an' sit down while I'll serve the food. Go on, go on! There's much to chatter about, that's for certain!"

Darren looked confused for a moment, "What? What food? And who are you? What am I?" He was exaggerating his bump on his head to be sort of memory loss. But, as usual, Lenore caught on and smacked him over the head for being cheeky.

Ulrich laughed and sat on the chair on the far right while Darren sat on the one on the far left. Erik stared at the couch and just assumed that was the place (and because it was the onlyblatant place) there was.

Suddenly, there was a song that was being sung out coming from the kitchen:

"_Talking all the day  
With true friends who try to make you stay  
Telling jokes and news  
Singing songs to pass the night away  
Watched the galway salmon run  
Like silver dancing, darting in the sun _

Living on your western shore  
Saw summer sun sets, I asked for more  
I stood by your Atlantic Sea

And sang a song for Ireland"

To no surprise, it was Lenore singing her heart out just like she did when she was young (well, that didn't happen until the she was at the Masquerade, another story). It was one of the older songs, but this time she was singing in English so they could understand what the devil she was saying, Erik thought she did this because the boys thought she was singing about them rather rudely. Erik was thoroughly stunned on how Lenore's once high, child-like voice had matured into a soprano but slightly mezzo. She was in her own level, which Erik knew Lenore was quite happy with that, being the fact that she didn't like blending in with the rest of the crowd.

Lenore continued the song:

"_Drinking all the day  
In old pubs where fiddlers love to play  
Someone touched the bow  
He played a reel that seems so grand and gay  
I stood on dingle beach and cast  
In wild foam we found Atlantic bass _

Living on your western shore  
Saw summer sun sets, I asked for more  
I stood by your Atlantic Sea

And sang a song for Ireland"

Ulrich had a peaceful smile on his face with his eyes closed, sitting in a straight position with his hands in his lap, listening to his friends sing in her sweet, memorizing voice which he adored since he first met her. Darren had his chin his palm, looking into space with a drunkish grin and his eyes droopy. Erik stared at the both of them, shocked on how Lenore's voice (he must admit, it was hauntingly memorizing) could affect the two! And then… Erik had a dark feeling…..

This was almost like the same position Christine was in…. Two men** trick-happy** over her voice, no doubt possibly in _love _with her…..

_Wait, wait, wait!_ Erik thought to himself furiously, _They're handsome, young men. Who am I to say they don't have lovers where they live? I need to ask…But……Darren's always been obsessive with Lenore, even when he was sixteen and she was twelve……Lenore disapproved because he was much older than her at the time and he said he'll just 'hang around' until she was……_Erik then blinked hard, his eyes at the center, _I don't believe it, his little scheme worked! _

Lenore walked in quite impressively, balancing three plates: one in each hand and one on her head with a grin and not minding it at all. In fact, she wasn't even noticing it, "Alright, boys—" she lowered down her left hand to set the plate on Ulrich's lap, strolled over to Darren and set the plate in his lap then bowed down to Erik, "…and your plate, sir."

Erik chuckled and took the plate, "Thank you, m'lady, you may leave," He batted his hand towards Lenore playfully who scooted away sideways, grinning.

"Arent'cha gonna eat, Lenfore?" Darren muffled through a mouthful of hash which Erik and Ulrich scowled at.

"What the heck do I look like, eh? An octopus?" Lenore's voice came from the kitchen, and then she quickly answered, "DON'T ANSWER THAT, LADDIE!"

Ulrich and Darren laughed while Erik just smiled at the pleasant atmosphere. He looked down at his plate and saw three sausages, three strips of beacon, a side of hash-browns, toast and eggs. There was barely enough room for the napkin and tools!

Lenore walked in with her plate quite gracefully and sat down next to Erik with a smile, "Does it look good? I say you should have the first bite!" She said with a grin.

"Yeah, just incase Ulrich has gotten into a food-poisoning spree or he's wanting to test out a new damn chemical to see if we turn green or jump about fifty-feet in the air," Darren said casually.

All of them glared at Darren darkly, especially Ulrich who folded his arms and raised a brow, "That's wery immature of you, Jackel…," he muttered.

"Just want to make sure I have my youth, buddy," Darren said.

Erik snorted, stuck a fork into the sausage and took a bite into it. Then he slowly went pale….

Ulrich frowned, "Y-You don't like it, H-Herr?" He asked shakily.

Erik swallowed then looked annoyed, "I just don't like it when people cook better than I do…" He muttered grumpily.


	7. Breakfast Chatter and Annoyances

**A/N: First off, I'd like to thank sophianwin for being my first reviewer on my FanFiction. That really boosts my confidence! I'm glad you're enjoying it so far... **

Phantom Of The Opera (c) Their respective owners and...or... _creators..._

Lenore, Darren, Ulrich (c) ...Me...

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**Breakfast Chatter and Annoyances **

Lenore and Darren threw their heads back in laughter while Ulrich looked like he was about to faint with relief. Lenore picked up a beacon with the tips of her fingers and tore it apart with ease, "Nice and tender….," She ate it but had a hard time chewing it, "Vell… Look's are deceiving, I suppose…." Lenore cleared her throat, remembering the conversation she had with Erik about catching up with things, but it appeared that he _caught up_.

"So, Lenore…," Erik said, slowly chewing on a piece of toast and finishing it, "…May I ask what you three been up to? I don't think you've spent the past nine years together…?" he said with a smile.

"Oh _Hell_ no!" Lenore gasped, looking frightened at the idea, "We've 'rejoined' not too long ago, however Darren's been a tad….. Pushy….," Lenore slowly raised a single brow a Darren who just looked up innocently, pressing his index fingers together, "….And then Ulrich's got a 'special someone' over at Tübingen, don't you?" Lenore teased while Ulrich went pink in the nose.

"That's not true, Lenore, Annabelle…Vell… I don't know….," Ulrich muttered, looking down at his plate sheepishly, "I think she's only taking a liking to me ist because… Vell I'm un doktor…"

"Really?" Erik said. Now he remembered! Ulrich was extensively intelligent when it came to the human anatomy and medicine when he was at the tender age of fourteen, in fact, he would often gloat about it, Erik thought frowning, "That's great news, Ulrich! What's Annabelle like…? Do you mind if I ask…?" Doesn't hurt.

Ulrich went positively red by now, grining from ear to ear and chuckling to himself, "Vell… She's a teacher at un college in Deutschland…. She…erm… Teaches International Studies, Social Studies and Physics…. I believe…. Ja." He buttoned his lip after that statement, loosing his voice.

"Well," Erik said, looking impressed, "That _is something_….Anything else….?"

Ulrich smiled, if it was possible, even more, "She…. She's got the most loveliest woice…." He whispered.

"That's what I was looking for!" Erik said, biting into another piece of toast. Ulrich nodded.

Darren snorted, "'Bout time Ulrich got himself a sweetheart. I was starting to think he was on the 'other side of the hill', if you catch my meaning…." Darren then sniggered.

"Vas?" Ulrich said, looking confused.

Lenore leered at Darren and then said to Ulrich, "Don't ask, hon, don't ask……. You don't want to stoop to that level of _stupidity_…No... **_Immaturity_**…." Lenore growled while Darren grinned with a mouthful of sausage and hash-brown, which made her snort with laughter but fought it off.

"But you should hear vhat Lenore's been doing with her life!" Ulrich said, his redness instantly vanishing with a sly smirk.

Lenore looked mildly surprised, "I've got nothing to hide, Ulrich," she looked at Erik, "Go ahead, mate, ask me anything." She said.

Erik patted the corners of his mouth with a napkin, thinking, "……..Alright, what about your father? Gordon Williams? Did you ever find him….?" he asked uncertainly, hoping that he didn't step in any black, murky waters.

Lenore snapped her fingers, quickly swallowing a mouthful of eggs and toast, "Y-YES! Yes, I did, in fact," she explained with a bright smile.

Erik's heart leapt in delight, "That's excellent, Lenore! Unbelievable, I wouldn't think you could find him so quickly—wait." Erik stopped himself, taking note of Lenore's white hair. Surely her father wouldn't have recognized her…. Being that it use to be pitched black. He looked at Lenore with a white face, "Did he… did he recognize you?"

Lenore's lip slowly formed into such a gentle and peaceful smile and she slowly nodded with her eyes soft, "Yes… Yes he did, Erik. I was fourteen at the time… In Scotland, you see… Was quite a shock to be honest. Something out of a fairy book that you hear when you're just a little thing….. I was sitting on the beach, singing 'She Moved Thur the Fair', you know that one….? And then…well……. I was in the second verse when I was cut off by another voice…. It was much older and deeper. It was a man's… Of course, I was taken off guard…. But that voice was so familiar… The voice and I just continued the song in a wonderful duet…. I didn't break my gaze from the sunset.… Not until we finished the song did I looked behind me and I immediately recognized his face….! He just smiled at me…. And he said, 'Hello, Lenore. It's been a long time, hasn't it?'…."

By now, Erik was in suspense and awe, "….Then what?" he breathed.

Lenore shrugged, "I hit the roof and about ten years was cut from my life, resulting me into _almost _fainting... That'll never happen, mind you." She chuckled.

"That's a given," Erik said, laughing and shaking his head lightly,stirring the beacon and taking a bite out of it, "You're much too proud, Lenore. You think it's bad for a young woman to faint when she's in shock?"

Lenore rubbed her face, grinning, "Not really, no, I just... I would be too _vulnerable--_let's just say..." she muttered, staring down at her plate and quietly pecking the food.

Darren was unusually quiet, chewing the last bits of his sausages.

"Now!" Ulrich said, assuming he was on a roll (doesn't everyone at this point, eh?) and too quickly change the mood, said, "Tell Erik about Michael, Ja?" He grinned evilly.

Suddenly, Lenore coughed and went bright red then cleared her throat, "W-Wh-What about him?" she stammered.

Both Ulrich and Darren grinned mischievously while Erik looked lost about this 'Michael' fellow, "Who's Michael?" he asked without thinking.

"Oh God…..," Lenore muttered, whining, burying her face into her hands, then muttered, "Ruddy bugger's…. Bunch of nutter's, them lot are….," she groaned and lifted her head looked annoyed, "Bunch of crazy people….," she said to herself. Why, oh God, why did they have to mention _him?_

"Lenore's sveetheart," Ulrich said in a swooning voice, grinning at Lenore, "Vell, he doesn't know yet…."

Darren finished the last of his toast, "_Yet_." He finished.

"I haven't the slightest idea in what you're talking about, boys, Michael's just a friend….," Lenore said, hiding her face with a napkin, "….A friend…." Her voice was muffled from the cloth.

Erik huffed in frustration, "I'll ask one more time….. Who is Michael?" he asked.

"His full name ist—"

Lenore quickly looked up with a scowl, "I'll tell 'em!" She snapped, "His full name is Michael Richardson…. He doesn't belong to any rich family or anything…. He's just….," Lenore then started giggling, shaking her head, "…Hilarious…"

"I don't understand what you see in that guy, Lenore!" Darren snapped, taping his fork on the plate. Erik could clearly see Darren was very jealous of Michael.

"What does he look like?" Erik asked, suddenly very interested in Michael for some inexplicable reason.

Lenore cursed under her breath, not liking where this conversation was going, "Well…. He's got brown hair… Bright green eyes……. And--"

"Skinny as a rake and shakes like a poodle," Darren said, "Not only that, he was born with two left feet—the only human being that trips on air!" He snickered.

Lenorescowled an evil, _evil_ glare at Darren, "I'll tell you what, mate, about I take this knife, put it under a hot flame and shove it up your—"

"Alright!" Erik said, watching Lenore slowly moving the plate off of her lap but set it back, still staring at Darren, not blinking, "Let's change the subject!" Where did this attitude come from? Lenore did have a habit of swearing now and then, but cursing at the top of her lungs-? "Lenore," Erik said sternly. Lenore snapped out of her trance and looked at Erik openly, "Where in God's name did you get such habits? Swearing? Cursing? Threats…? Lenore—what's going on--?"

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**Okay now were going toan explanation for the cursing... So, there'll be less of that for those of you who are offended by this and I apologize for that. bows lowly I speak inrepresentative of Lenore as well. The next chapter won't be as quick... To Update, I mean. I think... But--let's see. **

Thank you!


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